In My Eyes
by RavenWolf3
Summary: Angel watches as Buffy begins to fade. B/A, short and bittersweet.


Title: In My Eyes

Author: RavenWolf

Rating: 

Pairing: B/A

Status: Complete

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: A Slayer burns brightly for a time and then begins to fade.

A/N: This came from all those fics where Buffy is the most beautiful, perfect creature in the world. Well, what if she wasn't? How would Angel see her then?

August 15, 2002:

Angel watched his love writhe and gyrate in time with the music, her lithe, golden body swaying perfectly in tune with the beat. The crowd spread out around her, many open-mouthed in awe at her splendor. Her beauty was mostly natural, with her Slayer power worn around her like a cloak, attracting all those around her to its magnificence. 

He had to leave now. He had to go back to his bleak existence in L.A. And she could never know that he was here, watching over her, basking in her reflected glow.

January 31, 2004:

Angel came to see her at home. Not knocking, of course, but creeping in through the open window upstairs. He knew he was cutting it close, but he couldn't bear to stay away any longer. He had to know how she was doing.

He saw her from upstairs. She was sitting on the couch, arms raised over her head. A hiss escaped her and he could see that Spike was helping her wrap a wound that obviously ran across her stomach. He flinched at the smell of blood.

"Hey, Slayer. You hear that?" Spike lifted his head, but before Buffy could respond, Angel was gone.

July 13, 2007:

Through the window, Angel saw Buffy sitting at the kitchen table. Xander sat across from her, holding a spoon in his trembling hand. As he watched, Xander spoke. "It won't always be like this, Buff. You'll get used to it." Xander's voice was filled with tears, and Angel pitied him.

Xander's hands trembled as he brought the spoon to Buffy's mouth. With a bit of trouble, she swallowed. The bandages over her eyes crinkled when she smiled.

Angel shed a tear, and then got out quickly. The sun was coming up soon.

June 14, 2013:

Angel felt bad that it had been six years since his last visit, but Buffy didn't call, and it was easier to forget. The longer he waited, the more awful the things he would see upon his arrival.

This time he caught her on the way home from work. The aura she gave off was weaker now, as if she was finally realizing her mortality. That perhaps she couldn't stay young forever. She walked with a limp now, from an unknown injury that made her guard her back especially well. She held her cane as she would a weapon, and injured though she was, she was by no means helpless or easy pickings, despite her blindness. The crow's feet around her eyes were visible from where Angel stood, a distance away in the bushes.

She was tired now. And his heart ached for her. But he did not move, and after she left, he got back in his car and went home.

December 16, 2020:

"She wants to see you, you know," Xander said. His hair was shot completely through with gray, and his hairline was beginning to recede. "It's pretty bad. The doctors have given her a month at the most. But you know Buffy," his voice cracked, "she'll hold on longer just to spite them."

Angel had been waiting for this for the past twenty-six years. He grabbed his coat and was out the door before Xander, smoking in the sunshine as he ran to the car.

When they got to the hospital, Angel had to wait for Xander to show him to her room. He didn't wait for niceties with Cordelia and the baby, but she trailed after Xander anyway. 

When Angel entered the room, the antiseptic smell of her made him sick. Gone was the softly vanilla scent of her hair (steel gray now, no use dyeing it anymore) or the musky, salty scent of her arousal. The frail woman in the bed reminded him of nothing in form, but when he looked into her eyes, he remembered. He saw. It was if an inner light had been clicked on, and she was beautiful again. She glowed. Was radiant and beautiful and he had to gasp and sit down.

He held her hand gently in his. "Buffy. I love you."

Her breathing came softly. "I love you too." She reached to her other arm and pulled out the IV tube. She then pulled the oxygen tube from her nose, and sat up. "Angel, I waited for you. Why didn't you ever come back?"

Angel said nothing. He kissed the back of her hand.

"Angel...I...Could you...touch me, one last time? It's been so long...No one but you, ever." Buffy's unseeing eyes were so ashamed, and she cast them downwards. No use for them now but as an expression of emotion and beauty. Angel felt pain like he hadn't since the restoration of his soul. 

"Buffy, I will make love to you all night long if that's what you desire."

She smiled at him and looked straight at him, and though she couldn't see him, he knew she was trying her hardest. He forgot her age, forgot her scars, her blindness, forgot everything, because there was a fiery image of her true self burned into the back of his eyes. He kissed her truly then, and forgot what he had been taught to think was beautiful.

For if Buffy no longer fit the definition of beautiful, then he would simply have to change it.


End file.
